


Prom Foolery

by Lotus_Dumplings



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dorks, Dorks in Love, Other, Pep Talk, Prom, don't mind me, music humor everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_Dumplings/pseuds/Lotus_Dumplings
Summary: “You know, I used to think the world would, like, change colors when I started dating.”Roderich snorted. “You’re a dork.”“No, no, listen!” Gilbert said. “Like, the world didn’t change, but I’ve always had you guys, so I’ve always seen in color!”“Alright, I take it back. You’re a delusional dork.”
Relationships: Austria/Hungary/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Prom Foolery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dewy_Peach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dewy_Peach/gifts).



> OF COURSE WHEN I DO SOMETHING WITH GILBERT THO I WRITE 1000 WORDS WTF i'm so done. For Tao, hope you don't mind this
> 
> Context going on, Gilbert plays flute in band and is drum major in marching band, Lovi plays quads, Rod is a violinist and pianist, Erzsébet is an alto in choir, and this fic is just dorks with sprinkes of too much music humor.

Gilbert can barely breath. It's just not fucking happening, this is all _not fucking happening_. Right, and now he can't breath. Gilbert can't breath because two seconds ago he was just going to prom with some friends or whatever and now he's confused and hiding by the punch bowl. Great, fan-fucking-tastic.

"Yo, Major B." He jumps. Lovino Vargas is leaning against the wall behind him, looking up from his phone in concern. "You good?" 

Good. One syllable. Adjective. Of a favorable character and/or tendency. Well, then, he most certainly is _not_ "good". He shakes his head, filling a spare cup with punch. "I'm fine," he says instead.

Vargas raises an eyebrow. "Really? 'Cause you don't look so hot."

Gilbert blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. "Well, the air conditioner—"

"Come on, B, what's wrong? Two weeks ago you were running around during band prep so damn excited about the suit you got, and now you aren't even showing it off on the dance floor. And something tells me it's more than lame party syndrome, because lame parties are right up your alley!"

Gilbert can't seem to find an appropriate response. There's so much going on, so much to process and— wait a second. He frowns. "I'm the student body representative. I _organized_ this!" 

"Okay, look, I'm not here to talk about your questionable ideas of what a good time is," Vargas says, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "I'm actually here for free food, but if you need comforting, one problem at a time! So spit it!"

Again, Gilbert's lost. He stares in his punch cup, several ideas of what to say floating around. Finally, he mutters, "It's Edelstein and Héderváry." 

The other hums. "The violinist and the alto?"

"Yeah."

"You hang out with an orchestra prick and a choir kid and you don't expect drama?" 

"Vargas!" 

"What? It's not _my_ fault the other music departments are so damn extra." 

"V, this is why I _don't_ talk to random quad players about my prom night."

"Okay, okay, I'm listen. What about them?"

"They—" he gestures vaguely, "they asked me out!" He almost spills his punch, which is really unsanitary and would cause a bit of a problem for the custodian, so Gilbert focuses on calming down his breathing.

There's no response for a bit. Vargas just stares at him. Finally, he says, "And?" 

Gilbert chokes on his drink. "'And'?!"

"Yes, 'and'! I don't understand what the big deal is! Aren't they your dates to this thing, anyway?"

Gilbert scoffs. No, of course not. That sounds like his dream scenario. No, Erzsébet just asked him and Roderich to… go to… His eyes widen. "Oh my God, they are." 

Vargas stares at him in complete disbelief. "You're my Drum Major… how exactly?"

"That doesn't matter! I just— I don't know—"

"Woah, woah, chill a moment. Just breath." Vargas pulls him out of the lights, squeezing his shoulder. "Do you like them?"

Gilbert pauses, though he doesn't have to think on it long. He's thought about this before. After all, he's known them almost his entire life. He's collected bugs with Erzsébet and convinced Roderich to help cut his hair. He's been cheered up by one while the other bandaged his scrapped knee. He's competed against Erzsébet in Smash Bros with Roderich watching from her couch and eating cheap off brand pie. He's shared clothes with _both_ of them, discovered classical music with them, told them dreams and secrets, learned about himself with them. 

And more recently, he's wanted nothing more than to just be with them, in their presence, without the rest of the world at all. More recently, he's lost himself in Erzsébet's laugh or Roderich's eyes or the sound of them singing or playing and it's taken longer and longer to pick up the pieces. 

He's watched his friends pursue the idea of romance before calling quits and wondered, 'What makes me so different from all of them? Are we special? Don't we have a thing?' Because he's never found romance all that appealing, never recognized a desire for it, but the thought of being with his two best friends has never sounded bad at all. It sounds almost _right_. 

He's thought about it before, and thinking about it now, he comes to the same conclusion. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Then why are you still here?" 

Gilbert sighs. "I'm," he starts, but loses the words. Finally, he tries again with, "I'm just so scared."

"Of what?" Vargas asks, softer than before. Upon seeing Gilbert's hesitance to answer, he puts his hands up in surrender. "You don't have to tell me. But I'm sure whatever it is, they won't mind. After all, they know, like, everything about your dumb ass and something _still_ made them say, 'Hey, let's try it.' And it seems you trust them the same."

Gilbert nods. He does, doesn’t he? Because Lovino’s right. They know everything about him. Well, nearly everything. 

“Then go for it! What’s that saying? ‘Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all’? Funny, I don’t think I’ve ever actually read any Tennyson… But you get the point!”

“A-alright, I guess.” Gilbert exhales, messing with his hair a little. Who’s to say his panic hadn’t changed their minds? He shakes the thought away. “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.” Vargas smiles. “Do I get an ‘A’ on the sectional check for this?”

“No.”

“Ah, worth a shot. Now get out of here, and if you don’t come back with the stupid grin on your face we’re gonna fight, and that won’t look good of your record.” 

Gilbert rolls his eyes. “I’m going, I’m going.” 

Vargas gives him a sorta thumbs up, obviously sensing his hesitance, and Gilbert walks off, trying to stand tall. Is it really that easy to read him? He scans the crowd for a moment. Where’d they go?

“Gil!” Erzsébet slings her arm over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Gilbert blinks, a laugh bubbling out from instinct. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You looked really pale a moment ago.”

“I’m always ‘really pale', Erzsi.”

“Paler than usual,” Roderich clarifies, joining them. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just—” 

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Gilbert assures. “Your face already does that for you.”

“Oh, haha, very funny.”

“Boys.” Erzsébet tsks. “Keep the insults to a minimum, please.”

“It’s affectionate insulting!”

“Yes, it’s fine. I can always ‘affectionately’ hide his tone hole cleaners.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Okay, that’s enough! Next one to speak has to listen to the band fail compilation video.”

They both protest, and suddenly they’re all laughing, the knot Gilbert didn’t even notice forming loosening. Because these are his friends. He can trust them.

“Seriously, guys, about earlier.” He swallows. Well he’s gotten their attention. What now?

“Look,” Roderich begins, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I’m just…” Just what? Well, starting with the facts, “I’m ace, you guys aren’t, and I’m not sure how you guys feel about that but if it’s fine I really would like to take you up on your offer,” he says quickly. Just like ripping off a bandaid.

Erzsébet frowns. “Of course that’s fine, stupid! We’re your friends, and we _like_ you.”

Roderich nods in agreement. “I wouldn’t ask you out otherwise.”

“Really?”

“No, I just do these things on a whim.” 

“Was that sarcasm?”

“It was, in fact, sarcasm.”

“Was _that_ sarcasm?” 

Erzsébet laughs. “Okay, Gilbert, look. We, Erzsébet Héderváry and Roderich Edelstein, are asking you out on a date.”

Gilbert blinks, then nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Cool.”

They stand for a bit in silence. 

“So…” Gilbert shifted on his foot. “Does that mean we’re dating?”

Roderich nodded. “Yeah, I think it does.”

And it’s silent again, before they’re laughing once more because they, as Erzsebét put it, “are all so fucking stupid!” There are no objections to the statement.

“You know, I used to think the world would, like, change colors when I started dating someone.”

Roderich snorted. “You’re a dork”

“No, no, listen!” Gilbert said. “Like, the world didn’t change, but I’ve always had you guys, so I’ve always seen in color!”

“Alright, I take it back. You’re a delusional dork.”

Erzsébet snickers. “Come on, guys! It’s prom night with my two favorite people, I wanna dance!”

“If you request Whitney Houston again,” Roderich groans.

“You have no taste!”

And all Gilbert can do is watch in a sort of awe. Because he loves these losers, and who’s to say he hasn’t always? He groans. He owes Vargas big time, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> I find the seeing I color thing funny because I hc him partially color blind oops


End file.
